


Just Ianto Jones

by Beathen



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:44:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5306159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beathen/pseuds/Beathen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A diary entry by Ianto Jones.  Post 104.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Ianto Jones

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal on October 25, 2008. I own nothing - it all belongs to RTD and company.  
> *Beta by thrace_adams  
> *Podfic by sly_hostetter can be found: [here](http://sly-hostetter.livejournal.com/28659.html)  
> *Based on a prompt by marishna for [this ficathon](http://marishna.livejournal.com/499443.html)

Picture prompt:  
[ ](http://s92.photobucket.com/albums/l26/beathen/Everything%20Else/?action=view&current=beathen.jpg)  


I am intelligent.

I am dependable.

I am a vital part of Torchwood.

I am … falling apart on the inside.

But you wouldn't know this by looking at my face. I give away nothing with my expressions, smiles, or words. You wouldn't know this by the work I do. I am flawless in filing, manning the tourist office, cleaning the hub, and delivering the coffee at regular intervals throughout the day keeping everyone happy and caffeinated. You wouldn't even know by how I carry myself. I always stand straight and walk with purpose.

Not that you would ever notice anyway.

I'm the background, blending into the scenery as a vital part of the picture but never the focus. We can't all be heroes in the limelight. Even villains in fairytales are second to the main character whose bravery and selflessness make them stand apart as honorable and noble.

Villains are just misunderstood heroes.

But if you care to look in my eyes you can see the truth beneath the blank mask. I'm crying out in pain and despair and I don't know what to do to make it all go away. While I look for answers and wallow in my grief I am the one you can rely on for anything you need.

Because that's what I do.

But that's not who I am. Who I am underneath the pristine suits, patient silence, and unshakeable dependability is a man. A man who loves a woman. A woman so beautiful and bright that I would do anything … _anything_ to save her from a horrible fate. We had hope. And that was enough.

She was lost. Not lost … taken away many months before I was ready to accept it. So I put everything I was into finding a cure despite the fear and damnation that would surely come if anyone found out.

It was all for naught.

Lisa died the moment she was able to breathe on her own, though I didn't recognize it at the time. How twisted is that?

Even after four weeks suspension the grief is an ever-present companion sitting on my shoulder whispering words of memory. 

I am broken.

Even though I try to hide everything, there is one person who notices. His eyes are far older than he looks, and he probably knows, intimately, the pain I feel. He understands as he tracks my movements around the hub. He understands as his blue-eyed gaze pierces me to my soul. I can't hide from him anymore.

And that's okay.

Last night we sat on the couch in the hub. I had thought he'd gone to his office to read and I was surprised when he sat next to me. He didn't touch me and he didn't say anything. It was odd how comfortable the silence was. I don't know how long we sat there. I do know that those were the most peaceful moments? minutes? hours? that I'd had for months. I felt like I could breathe again.

"You're going to be okay," he said, eventually.

"It doesn't feel like it," I replied.

He nodded and grabbed my hand, giving it a little squeeze, and then walked into his office, leaving the door open. 

Maybe it would get better. All I had now was a new hope. And when … if I lost sight of that I know he'll be there, his silent understanding guiding me through the shattered pieces of my heart to a place of peace and forgiveness.

I don't have to hide anymore and it's a relief to set aside the façade I'd carefully constructed as protection. No more painting on a pretty face and smiling for the benefit of others. Now I'm just me.

A man who loved a woman.

A man who hid the truth.

A man who's been forgiven and who will heal with time.

No more mask.

Just Ianto Jones.

~~The End~~


End file.
